- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Heat-Death
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When I was younger, I found a baby bird
Fallen from its nest, head huddled into
Shoulders, black eyes narrowed, rimmed
In dull grey, body a puff of sleek brown
And speckled black. It was dying.
I didn't know that then, so I lifted it up.
Cradled in the child-soft cup of my hands,
I could feel it quivering and the dry scrape
Of its little claws against my untested skin.
Its beak gaped and its tongue was red.
When I set my hand over its body, hoping
To still its shivering between the heat
Of my palms, it gave a moan. No chirp,
No squeak, but the rattle of a dying thing,
And I, startled, let the baby drop.
It was still warm when it fell to the ground,
Warm from its nest, warm from my hands,
But no less dead for all that.
- COMMENTS
Tzaraalmost 15 years agoI think there are some problems with this poem. The "When I was younger" start seems irrelevant, as you don't expand on that to say why now (when you are older) that experience was important. The rest of the poem is in the past, so that phrase doesn't matter.<P>
I don't know, maybe you want to say "As a child..."? (Not that that helps what I think the problem is.)<P>
Anyway, sorry, it's basically a well-done poem, well imaged. I actually had an experience quite like that recently (a robin flew into the window of my parents' house while I was there), and you've told that story well and true.<P>
Completely off-subject I'll say that my first response to the title ("Heat-Death") is that it is a poem about Thermodynamic Entropy and the heat-death of the universe. :-)<P>
Sorry. I minored in physics.
Anonymousalmost 15 years agoI am enjoying your poetry and am glad you are here.
-Curiouswife
